Mike shook his head and continued his search for a set of cuff links. He and Michelle were preparing to embark on their yearly trip for their anniversary dinner at a "mystery restaurant" courtesy of Michelle's sister Bev and his own brother Tim. "Heaven knows what we're in for this time. I just know they promised it would not be Japanese."
Michelle gave up on her pendant, handed it to Mike and turned so he could drape it around her neck where by just the fact that he could see what he was doing achieved success. Michelle faced him, "They mean well. It's just..." She gestured vaguely with her hands.
"I know," Mike assured her. "I just hope we don't have to sit on the floor this time."
*******************************************************************************
"Shalom Aleichem. Welcome to The Kazbah," greeted the hostess dressed in traditional Moroccan garb. She led the party to their 'table'. "Please sit here," she instructed indicating the oversized sofa cushions on which they were to sit."
Mike groaned.
"Well, it's not exactly the floor," Michelle told him in a whisper. "And at least we get to keep our shoes this time."
Each couple took their places as Bev began her excited chatter. "Jeff and I were here a few weeks ago and I just knew this would be perfect for the celebration. It's so authentic. You eat with you hands."
Mike groaned again.
Tim who was at Mike's left squeezed his shoulder affectionately. " She called me and when she told me about this place... Well, I had to agree."
Mike leaned to his wife. "Naturally," he said into her ear.
The anniversary couple scanned the menu and shrugged. But Bev was still chattering away. "I'll go ahead and order for the table since we've been here and know what everything is."
"Moroccan horseradish," Mike joked, again speaking into Michelle's ear. He was obviously still having flashbacks from the previous year's encounter with wasabi.
True to her word Bev skillfully relayed an order to the waitress who a few minutes later reappeared with a metal basin and pitcher.
"She's going to wash your hands," Bev informed them. One by one they held their hands over the basin while the server let warm water cascade over them. They then dried their hands on towels which were also to serve as napkins.
Soon drinks arrived.
"In lieu of putting Tim on the spot again to make a toast Jeff has written a poem for the ocassion," Bev said as she deferred to her husband.
Jeff began the recitation of the rhyme poetry he had prepared for the evening. As he recited he became more and more dramatic and he emphasized lines by pounding his glass on the table again and again. Water sloshed but he kept going. When he finished the last verse with a flair... and final slam of glass to surface all the other patrons of the tiny restaurant broke into a round of applause. Jeff used the opportunity to work the room telling them how they could order a copy of his book... and when his next poetry reading would be.
Their soup arrived first. The waitress explained that you drink the soup. Mike sighed in relief. "Thought we'd have to eat it with our hands," he quipped.
The soup turned out to be quite good as well as was the appetizer that Bev selected, eggplant that came with bread with which to scoop it.
Between the appetizer and the main course Lasha appeared. She shimmied up to the table jangling all the way. It was a scene right out of a Hollies song. (or an Elvis song depending on whether you envision "Stop, Stop, Stop" or "Little Egypt") Lasha danced, rather she gyrated. And wiggled. At one point she seemed to be vibrating, the gold bangles following the movements of her hips. She thrust one last time in Mike's direction, much to Michelle's dismay before making her way to the neighboring table. Mike's eyes followed. Then his head rotated in that direction as well. A sharp flick of his wife's finger to the side of his leg brought his attention back to her.
"What?" Mike asked sheepishly. "I was just admiring her..." He cleared his throat. "Dress."
The main courses arrived in time to save the embarrassed engineer specialist. Bev had ordered dishes with couscous and vegetables as well as entrees of skewered meats. Everyone was just about to dig in when a piercing scream came from a table along the wall.
The couples looked to see an hysterical woman kneeling beside a man who had one of the meat skewers protruding from his mouth. The server was nearby explaining that he was supposed to have removed the meat from the skewer before attempting to eat it.
"Here we go again," Mike said rising from the cushion. "I'll call the station." He returned a few minutes later, stopping to tell the anguished woman that help was on the way.
"John and Roy are on their way."
Michelle seemed puzzled. "John and Roy?"
"Yeah, guess they wanted to work an extra shift."
They looked on as the restaurant owner assisted the man to a room in the back, well away from the now nervous other customers. And John and Roy were escorted their immediately upon their arrival. Soon the ambulance attendants entered with a gurney wheeling the man out of the establishment shortly thereafter.
John and Roy emerged. John stopped at the table of the happy couple, Roy passing and saying, "I'll ride with him." With that he hurried to catch up to the transport vehicle.
"You guys are just trouble magnets," Gage told them. "Next time some guy tries to give himself a tonsillectomy call 36's." He studied the table before him. "You know you ought to get the waitress over here. They forgot to give you silverware." He thumped Mike on the shoulder and left.
**********************************************************************************
"I'm sorry," Tim apologized as he stood in the doorway of Mike's house. "I know that these theme restaurants aren't really your thing. I just get carried away, I guess. Want to do something special."
"Well, I'll never forget it," Mike teased as he faced his brother. Michelle had already disappeared down the hallway leaving them to talk.
"Forgive me?"
"Nothing to forgive," Mike told him matter-of-factly. "Just next year..."
"Hey, it was Jeff who said that next year we should go Ethiopian."
Mike raised his arms and gestured with his hands for Tim to come forward. "Just give me a kiss."
Tim took two steps. Reaching up to hold Mike's upper arms, the two kissed before falling into a hug. "Love you, Mike," Tim said softly.
Mike ran a hand down Tim's back. "I know," he reassured. "I know. I love you, too."
They ended the embrace, still clasping each other by the forearms. The was a pause then the brothers kissed each other again before Tim turned and headed out the door.
Closing the door Mike smiled to himself and shook his head.
"Quite an evening," Michelle said reentering the area.
"That it was," Mike agreed. "But remember do not under any circumstances tell your sister that we had a good time."
"I won't."
"I hate to have to do it that way. But... if she were to know we really liked this place..."
"I know," Michelle nodded. "Next year we'll end up at Water's Sushi or...
"The House of Octopi..."
"Snake on a Stick."
The Stokers were laughing when they caught each other's eye.
"Happy Anniversary, Chelle."
"Happy Anniversary."
THE END